


love will make us

by doxian



Series: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics (SASO) 2016 [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Starfighter, Challenge: Sport Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2016, Comfort Sex, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fear of Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Science Fiction, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/pseuds/doxian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shirabu, who had spent the majority of his life safe on Earth experiencing the war secondhand via news telecasts, had run mental simulations of every negative scenario he could think of as soon as he has been assigned to a fleet. The idea was to get himself used to the many ways that he could die. If he expected it, then he wouldn't be afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love will make us

**Author's Note:**

> written for [the following SASO 2016 bonus round 4 prompt](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/15224.html?thread=6850168#cmt6850168):
> 
> "Come sleep with me: We won’t make Love, love will make us.” 
> 
> \- Julio Cortázar
> 
> can be read as a sequel to [to boldly go](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6123651) or as a standalone. 
> 
> for those unfamiliar with the [Starfighter webcomic](http://starfightercomic.com/): it's a smut/fighting-in-space comic where pilots form fighter (shoots things) and navigator (steers) pairs in order to pilot a ship. here, Shirabu is the navigator and Ushijima is his fighter.

They become accustomed to risking their lives. 

Shirabu, who had spent the majority of his life safe on Earth experiencing the war secondhand via news telecasts, had run mental simulations of every negative scenario he could think of as soon as he has been assigned to a fleet. The idea was to get himself used to the many ways that he could die. If he expected it, then he wouldn't be afraid. 

He continues with this exercise after achieving his goal of being matched up with Ushijima. He gets into the habit of checking on the new recruits - picking out who he's most likely be paired with if Ushijima goes down in the line of duty, who Ushijima might go on to work with if the opposite occurs instead. He ranks them all in order of likelihood, and then ranks them all again in order of preference.

Ushijima, of course, would be fought over like the last drop of water in a desert if Shirabu were to die first. Everyone’s eager to work with the new rising star. Shirabu knows that the rest of the fleet underestimates him in comparison, even though his numbers speak for themselves. That doesn’t much matter, though. What’s important to him is that his captain recognizes the role he plays in his and Ushijima's successes, and so does Ushijima himself. Everybody else, well. Sometimes Shirabu gets tired of the perception that he's simply riding the tail of Ushijima's glory, mostly because of the envious looks and occasional rough handling by the many who covet his position. Luckily, Shirabu can usually hold his own. And when he can't, he can depend on Ushijima's intimidating presence to deter any potential assailants. 

He anticipates having so much difficulty accepting their new reality that he almost astonishes himself with how quickly he adjusts, how soon he becomes desensitized to the news of comrades falling in battle. The acknowledgment of casualties becomes as mundane as the giving of orders, the execution of drills. 

At least, until they're sent out on an assignment that goes belly-up almost from the moment their ships leave the docks. 

It isn't a surprise attack. Their radar picks up the enemy ships with ample time to coordinate a counter-attack, but something goes terribly, terribly wrong, and they end up containing the threat by the skin of their teeth. They make it back with their ship in dire need of repair - they're definitely staying grounded for the next couple of days - but some of the other pilots aren't as lucky. 

With all the times Shirabu had heard of pilots going down, he'd never yet seen it up close. He doesn’t witness it directly today, either, but given how Gaius’ side of his and Chronos’ ship is absolutely decimated, the only viable conclusion is that the fighter must be dead in his seat. Seeing what Gaius’ death has left behind makes Shirabu’s gut twist: Chronos - after being extricated from the wreckage with his uniform drenched in blood - isn't weeping, but he looks so white and numb and _alone_ that Shirabu is suddenly hit with the sobering knowledge that no matter how many scenarios he plays out in his head, no matter how he faces up to the knowledge that he might lose Ushijima and might have to continue on without him, if it happens he's going to be no more prepared for it than he was when he first started. 

The thought weighs down on him so heavily that he's barely cognizant of the medics checking him over, of the captain giving them a quick yet incisive debrief. He's quiet up until they reach their room, and then his body and mind seem to reboot, jerking back into action. As soon as he gets in the door he makes a beeline for his desk and switches on his laptop. 

“Shirabu.” 

“I should look into the model of ship the enemy fleet was using. It's nothing we've encountered before, maybe that's why we were defeated so easily.” He doesn't look up. 

One of Ushijima's hands comes to rest on his shoulder. The other gently closes his laptop. 

Shirabu looks at him, now. He takes in the shape Ushijima's body cuts through space. How much power rests in the form of him. How easily that strength can be destroyed. 

“You look lost.” 

Shirabu doesn't respond. Neither does he resist when Ushijima tips his chin up to kiss him. 

Feeling Ushijima's lips against his unties a knot inside him Shirabu didn't realize was there. The release makes his hands - steady up until this point - start shaking. He touches as much of Ushijima he can reach, urgently charting the undeniable, reassuring physicality of him, as if he'll dissipate into mist if Shirabu stops. 

Ushijima walks them to the bed and sits Shirabu down just as gently as he'd touched his shoulder, his face. Shirabu can't seem to stop kissing him. He finds himself pulling down the zipper of Ushijima's suit so that he can feel skin, bringing a hand to just under his jaw so that his pulse drums under his fingertips. Ushijima helpfully shrugs the top of his uniform off. Shirabu moves to fumble with the fastenings of his own suit, clumsy in his haste, and Ushijima helps him there, too, patiently working his way down the front of the jacket until Shirabu can take it off. Shirabu tries to rush him, but Ushijima forestalls all of his attempts, slowly getting the rest of their clothes off, laying Shirabu down, kissing along his body, taking his time. Where Shirabu is all nervous, frenetic energy, Ushijima is a grounding force, substantive and irresistible. 

Ushijima fucks him on his side, spooning up against him. Shirabu is both full and surrounded. With the stretch of Ushijima pushing inside him, and the solid warmth of Ushijima’s body behind him, he can barely think. When they finish, Shirabu hears his own heart pounding heavy and rapid in his ears, turns over almost immediately so he can put his ear against Ushijima’s chest to hear the same frantic rhythm. 

Later, while they’re still curled up against each other, Shirabu asks Ushijima if he’s ever afraid, his question a quiet murmur in the dimness. Ushijima seems to consider for a few moments before answering, “There is no point in being scared.” He rubs circles into Shirabu’s back, repetitive and soothing. 

“There’s nothing to fear if we beat them,” he says, “and when we become stronger, we’ll beat them.” 

Shirabu huffs a laugh against Ushijima’s chest. He sounds so certain. He makes it sound so easy. But then maybe it _has_ always been that easy. 

He listens to Ushijima's pulse slow back down to a steady beat, and thinks about how to be a part of Shiratorizawa's fleet is to be strong. To stand beside Ushijima is to be strong. He might not be strong _now_ , but for their world, for _this_ , for the man laying underneath him, he will be.

He lays in Ushijima's arms, and he feels reborn.


End file.
